Denver's Cheesman Park seems to be a place of peace and
tranquility. The rolling lawns and stately trees offer an oasis of shade
and quiet among the busy streets of the city. All seems to be well here..
but is it? Are those shadowy forms moving beneath the shade trees merely
the figures of other afternoon sojourners, or something else? Is that
woman in the plain dress who sings quietly to herself just an eccentric
visitor hoping to spend the day alone... or could she be one
of the many apparitions that have been reported in this park over
the years??

Cheesman Park is a place that some say hides a legacy of horror. There is
no disputing the fact that it has long been considered haunted and for reasons
that few readers will not understand. You see, this beautifully landscaped
park was built over the desecration of the old City Cemetery. This was a dark
period in Denver history and as with other such sites, ghosts and hauntings
were born from it. However, this was not merely a desecration, nor was it just
a case of a few buildings being constructed over some old burial sites. This
episode was a scandal that rocked the city government, outraged the public and
filled with the newspapers with lurid tales! Read on... and you'll soon find
why Cheesman Park and the surrounding neighborhood has long been infested with
ghosts!

In 1858, a man named William Larimer set aside 320 acres of ground that
were to be used as a cemetery in the new and growing city of Denver, Colorado.
He named the cemetery Mount Prospect and sites on the crest of the hill were
to be set aside for the rich and influential residents of the city. Paupers
and criminals were to be buried on the far edges of the graveyard and ordinary
people would find burial spots somewhere in the middle.

The first burials to take place here were the victims of crime and
violence. A Hungarian immigrant named John Stoefel had come to Denver to
settle a dispute with his brother-in-law and ended up murdering him. After a
short trial, Stoefel was dragged away by a mob and hanged from a cottonwood
tree. He and his brother-in-law were then taken to Mount Prospect and their
bodies were unceremoniously dumped into the same grave. Murder victims and
those killed in accidents continued to be buried in the lower sections of the
cemetery and the name Mount Prospect began to fall out of use. Most people
simply referred to the place as the "Old Boneyard" or "Boot
Hill". The cemetery failed to gain the respect and reverence that William
Larimer intended for it to have.

As time passed though, Denver began to flourish, with large fortunes being
made in silver mining and real estate. Embarrassed by the unseemly reputation
of the local cemetery (and names like Boot Hill), the city fathers decided to
re-name the graveyard the City Cemetery in 1873. Even the new name though
couldn't hide the fact that it was becoming an eyesore. Lack of interest and
care had caused the cemetery grounds to revert back to nature. Tombstones had
fallen over, prairie dogs had burrowed into the hills and cattle were allowed
to graze among the graves. Some time before, affluent families had started
burying their loved ones at the newer Riverside and Fairlawn Cemeteries and
were leaving the City Cemetery to paupers, criminals, transients and unclaimed
smallpox and typhus victims from the local pesthouse.

Meanwhile, ownership of the cemetery passed from Larimer to a cabinetmaker
named John J. Walley, who soon went into the undertaking business. He did
little to improve the situation in the cemetery and with new homes and
mansions being built nearby, the city government was being pressured to do
something about it. They soon found a way to pull a fast one over on owner
John Walley. Out of the blue, someone in the U.S. Government discovered that
the cemetery was on land that was part of an Indian treaty that dated back to
before 1860. This made the United States the legitimate owner of the property
and in 1890, they sold it to the city of Denver for $200.

The city soon went to work. During Walley's ownership, the cemetery had been
divided into three sections. The city's portion had deteriorated but the
Catholic and Jewish sections continued to be well-maintained. Soon after the
city took over the land, the Jewish churches removed their dead from the
graveyard and leased the land to the City's Water Department. The Catholic
Church purchased their own land and kept the cemetery in excellent condition
until 1950.

The following summer, City Hall announced that all interested parties should
remove their dead from the City Cemetery for burial elsewhere within 90 days.
Some were reburied by concerned family members but more than 5,000 of the dead
were forgotten and went unclaimed. In the early spring of 1893, preparations
were made to remove these bodies. At that time, Denver's mayor, Platt Rogers,
who worried about the health hazards of opening the graves, was out of town.
Ordinances were passed to release funds for the removal and an unscrupulous
undertaker named E.F. McGovern was awarded the contract. He specified that
each body would be dug up and then placed in a new box at the site, but the
box was to only be 3 1/2 feet long and one foot wide. Upon delivery of these
boxes to Riverside Cemetery, McGovern would be paid $1.90 each.

In March, McGovern's men went to work. Curiosity-seekers and reporters came
out to watch and at first, things were orderly and smooth but it didn't take
long for the work to become careless. According to the legends, an old woman
came down to speak to the men and told them that they should whisper a prayer
over every body that was unearthed... or the dead would return. Needless to
say, the workmen laughed at her, but they had a hard time concealing their
obvious unease. Their haste also allowed souvenir hunters and onlookers to
help themselves to items from the caskets. The bodies that had not decayed
sufficiently enough to fit into the small wooden boxes were broken apart and
shoveled out of the old caskets.

And none of these people (including the workmen) were
immune to fear. One workmen, a man named Jim Astor, claimed that he
felt a ghost land atop his shoulders. He was so frightened that he
threw down a stack of brass nameplates that he had looted from old
coffins and ran for his life. He did not return to the site the
following day. People who lived in the homes nearby began to report
spectral manifestations in their houses and confused spirits who
knocked on their doors and windows throughout the night. In the
darkness, low moaning sounds could be heard over the field of open
graves... a sound that can still sometimes be heard today.

The ghosts from the disturbed graves began to
appear in and around the homes near the City Cemetery (now Cheesman
Park)

By the time that Mayor Rogers returned to town, the local newspapers were
running front page stories about the atrocities being committed at the
cemetery and the general state of corruption at City Hall. The stories brought
to light that there were discrepancies between the number of re-burials being
charged to the city and the actual number of boxes being delivered to
Riverside Cemetery. The matter had become a full-blown scandal and with the
help of the health commissioner, he brought the project to a halt. An
investigation was launched, leaving the gaping holes in the ground unfilled.
Eventually, the rest of the bodies would be forgotten... and they are still
there, under the surface of the park's grounds and gardens.

In 1907, work was completed to turn the City Cemetery into Cheesman Park.
It was named in honor of Walter S. Cheesman, a prominent citizen of Denver.
Two years later, the marble pavilion shown in the postcard (top of article)
was constructed in his memory. In 1950, the Catholic Church sold its adjacent
cemetery and an orderly removal took place. Since then, that portion of the
land has become Denver's Botanical Gardens. What was once the Jewish section
of the cemetery is now Congress Park.

But despite the passing years of peace, the ghosts who were disturbed more
than a century ago have returned, or perhaps have never left at all. Many
people who come to the park (and don't know its history) speak of feelings of
oppression and sadness, even in these peaceable surroundings. Others still
claim to occasionally sight the misty figures, strange shadows and apparitions
of the dead. These ghostly images wander in confusion, perhaps wondering what
has become of their final resting places. One has to wonder if they will ever
find peace?